


Six Feet Under

by wolfsbanearrow (Pixelicious)



Series: 100 Theme Challenge [5]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Buried Alive, M/M, beginnings of panic attack, mentions of pack, omg why do i keep hurting stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:18:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelicious/pseuds/wolfsbanearrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was he...?</p>
<p>No, he couldn't be.</p>
<p>He'd have known if he was dead.</p>
<p>Oh hell no. He better not be dead!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Feet Under

**Author's Note:**

> Theme; Under

It wasn't often that Stiles woke up disoriented. That usually happened when alcohol was involved, and he doesn't remember drinking prior to now. Hell he doesn't remember anything.

He was lying on something hard, legs stretched out and arms at his sides.

The moment he felt around, he knew something wasn't right. Immediately his breathe felt sucker punched out of him. There was wooden walls surrounding him, if that's the hard, gritty feeling under his finger.

Was he...?

No, he couldn't be.

He'd have known if he was dead.

Oh hell no. He better not be dead!

Stiles patted his sides frantically, feelings for his pockets and the hardness of his phone in his pocket.

Oh sweet baby Jesus.

He couldn't be dead. Stiles highly doubts they'd bury him with his phone.

No, That only left one thing.

He was buried alive.

This was his life, ladies and gentlemen.

He pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen, letting the light fill the box hi was occupying.

Oh man, it looks so much creepier now.

It looked like he had some missed calls. One from his dad and a few from both Scoot and Derek.

And it was three in the morning.

Fuck being courteous. Someone was about to be woken up.

He was in a coffin for fuck's sake; so he called Derek.

It rang a few times before it was picked up.

“What do you want.”

It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

Stiles suddenly couldn't find his words, his breathe coming out in harsh puffs.

It sounded so loud in the tiny space.

And he could also hear a terrible thumping sound.

Oh wait, that was his heartbeat. Great.

“Stiles?” Derek then questioned, the annoyed tone leaving his voice.

“Derek,” he gasped, a hand shooting up, banging against the top of the box. A sprinkle of dirt fell on him.

Oh god. He just wanted out.

“Derek,” Stiles repeated. “I'm in a fucking coffin underground.”

“What? Stiles what are you talking about?”

Stiles choked on an attempt at a laugh, that sounded more like a sob then anything else.

“I honestly don't know how much more clear I can be about this.”

“Where are you?”

“Oh my _God_ , Derek. Do you think I know? I can't remember what I had for dinner, or anything, and you think I know where I am. That's cute,” Stiles' breathe came out harder.

“Stiles, you need to breathe,” Derek said, almost trying to sound comforting.

“What do you think I'm trying to do!?” He snapped. 

“Calm down,” the werewolf said, voice sounding demanding, and he could almost feel the Alpha in it even though he's not a wolf.

“Yeah,” Stiles coughed, trying to move around.

“But seriously, Derek, I need to be out of here like yesterday. I don't even know how long I've been in here and who knows how much air I have left and I don't want to test it. Because who wants to test something like that? Who gets buried alive? I mean--”

Here came the word vomit.

“Stiles, it's going to be okay,” Derek cut him off, probably for the best, and Stiles could hear movement on Derek's side.

“My phone's GPS should be on. Just-- just get me _out_ of here, Derek,” Stiles said, sounding so _desperate_. He could feel stinging at the corners of his eyes.

No, he was not going to cry! But if he did, he was justified to do it.

“I'm going to call the others. I'll call right back.”

“No, dude. I don't know if my phone will live long enough to stay on the phone with you if you call back. It has little less than half battery. Want it to live as long as possible. I'll text you.”

“Okay. We'll find you. If it's the last thing I-- we do, Stiles.”

He hiccuped lightly at the admission. That was pretty deep.

“Okay,” Stiles said miserably.

Derek hung up, but Stiles was already opening up a text message.

_**Hurry.** _

_**Please.** _

It felt like hours passed, the sudden sound of his phone so close to dying made him break out into a cold sweat.

What if they didn't make it? It already felt like he was so close to losing air.

Again he opened a text message.

_**Derek my phone is dying.** _

Immediately there was a response.

_**We're almost there, Stiles. Hold on, please.** _

Stiles blinked, Was that the first time Derek ever said please?

He was in the middle of a reply, one to make fun of Derek to lighten the mood, when the phone cut off, sending the box once again into pitch black.

No. No no _nonono _!__

__“Damn it!” Stiles swore, thumping his head against the floor of the coffin, his hands gripping his phone so tightly to his chest like a life line._ _

__Would they still be able to find him? He hoped they had enough common sense to write it down._ _

__Stiles wanted some fresh air right _now_._ _

__He was going to stay outside for hours if he made it out of this alive. And if not, then he was already in a coffin._ _

__No reason to put a.. perfectly good coffin to waste, right?_ _

__Oh god. He was going to suffocate in here, he just knew it._ _

__They were going to be late and he was going to run out of air._ _

__He could feel the panic start to build and press heavily against his chest. He was trapped._ _

__Just when he started gasping, he could barely hear muffled sounds above him._ _

__Who was it?_ _

__Was it the Pack? Did they finally find him?_ _

__Or was it whoever put him in here, ready do just finish the job?_ _

__The sounds were louder now, familiar yelling drowning out the constant buzzing sound in his ears. Now he could feel tears falling._ _

__Stiles lifted a hand, the other still clutching the phone, and started to bang against the top of the box, his breathe wheezing._ _

__Then the top was ripped off and Stiles didn't care who it was, because he was throwing his arms up and trying to grasp for whoever it was._ _

__Strong arms pulled him up and out of the coffin. Stiles still fought for air, which was just barely getting better by the minute now that fresh air surrounded him._ _

__A hand was rubbing circles into his lower back, calming him down._ _

__He couldn't really hear anything now, the buzzing caught up with him now that he was free, but seemed to slowly be going away._ _

__Stiles hid his face in the person's-- _Derek's_ neck, hiding from whatever was around. He hoped the others understood._ _

__His arms were a vice grip around Derek's neck and he doubted the werewolf even cared._ _

__“You're okay, Stiles. You're okay.” Although Derek was saying that into his ear, it sounded like he was saying it more to himself. Like he had to make himself believe hat Stiles was okay, which now it was._ _

__Yeah, he was good now._ _


End file.
